The Obsession(113)

“It’s yours to tell, or not. You’d find good friends in Kevin and Jenny. Not trusting that? It’s a disservice to them, and to you.”

“That’s what Chief Winston said to me, about telling you. That same word. Disservice.”

“Do you want to tell me what else he said?”

“I knew as soon as he drove up.”

She closed her eyes, let herself feel the dog at her feet, the man beside her.

“The world just fell out from under me. Just dropped away. I’d expected ithe’d do a background run on me because I found the body. But the world dropped away. He was straightforward, and he was kind. He said he wouldn’t tell anyone else, that he hadn’t and wouldn’t. I’ve never been around anyone but family who knew. Or if it came out, I left before things changed.”

“Left before you knew if they’d change or not?”

“Maybe that’s true, but I’ve been through those changes, and they’re awful. They steal everything,” she said quietly, “and crush you.”

“I’m sitting here having a beer like I’d hoped to do since I closed the garage. There’s a hot meal keeping warm in the oven, a nice sunset right out there. Nothing changed or needs to. You’ll get used to it.”

Nothing needed to change. Could that be true? Was it really possible?

“Maybe we can just sit here for a while longer, until I get used to it.”

“That works for me.”



Hours later, when all but the bars shut down for the night, and the streets in town went quiet, with pools of light from streetlamps shimmering against the dark, he watched and waited.

He’d taken the time to study the routine along the main street with its shops and restaurants. To study the women who closed up those shops, or walked home from their job as line cook or waitress.

He had his mind on the pretty young blonde, but he wouldn’t be picky. At least three young ones worked the late shift at the pizzeria.

He’d take his pickbut the pretty young blonde? She was top choice.

He’d left the camper at the campground a good twelve miles away, all legally set up.

And if they only knew what he’d done inside that home away from home. Just the idea made him want to chuckle.

But the excitement grew, a hot ball in the belly, when the rear door of the restaurant opened.

The hot little blonde, just as he’d hoped.

And all alone.

He slipped out of the car, on the dark edge of the lot, with the rag he’d soaked with chloroform held down at his side.

He liked using chloroform, going old-school. It put them outno muss, no fusseven if it tended to make them a little sick. It just added to the process.

She walked along, firm, young tits bouncing some, tight young ass swaying. He glanced back toward the restaurant, making sure no one else came out, started to make his move.

And headlights sliced over the lot, had him jumping back into the shadows. The little blonde waited for the car to turn toward her, then opened the passenger door.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“No problem, honey.”

He wanted to kick something, beat something, when his desire drove off, left him yearning and hot.

Tears actually gathered in the corners of his eyes. Then the door opened again.

Two more came out. He saw them in the light above the door, heard their voices, their laughter as they talked.

Then one of the boys came out. He and the younger of the women linked hands, strolled off together.

The young girl turned around, walked backward. “Have fun tomorrow! Drive safe.”

The lone woman started across the lot. Not young like the others, not so prettynot blonde like his desirebut she’d do. She’d do well enough.

She hummed to herself as she opened her purse to dig out her key.

All he had to do, really all he had to do was step up behind her. He deliberately gave her that instant to feel fear, to have her heart jump as she turned her head.

Then he covered her face with the cloth, gripped her around the waist while she struggled, while her muffled screams pushed hot against his hand. As she went so quickly, almost too quickly, limp.

He had her in the back of the car, wrists and ankles wrapped in duct tape, more tape over her mouth, a blanket over her, within twenty seconds.

He drove out of the lot, through town, careful to keep to the posted speed, to use his turn signals. He didn’t even turn on the radio until he passed the town limits. He opened the windows to cool his hot cheeks, flicked a glance in the rearview at the shape under the blanket.

“We’re going to have some fun now. We’re going to have one hell of a good time.”





 FOCUS


The spectator ofttimes sees more

than the gamester.

JAMES HOWELL